Agravain was ready to die.
In that moment, his pain was undeniable... a true knight's death should be glorious, not this.
Yet he had no choice.
Caught between perfect ideals and grim reality, the planet's will tasked him with correcting this "erroneous" History. But this "error" was the very ideal he and the Knights of the Round Table cherished most.
No matter what he did, it was wrong.
So, "suicide"... a path to damnation, offering no redemption... became his best option.
If he couldn't solve the problem, he'd eliminate its source. Unlike idealists like Gawain or Bedivere, this cold-blooded knight embraced a starkly pragmatic worldview.
He'd pay any price for this ideal kingdom's survival... including himself.
But...
Clang!
Unexpectedly, the chain-spear poised to pierce his throat was struck down by the man who was their "enemy."
"???"
Agravain looked up, bewildered, at the man wearing a pained expression.
"Really." Alaric said, rubbing his forehead, exasperated, after stopping Agravain's suicide.
"I hate that magus, but he wasn't wrong about one thing."
"You Knights of the Round Table are experts at causing Artoria trouble."
Alaric stepped closer, facing Agravain.
Looking at his stunned face, Alaric felt both amusement and sorrow.
"Honestly, what kind of person do you knights think King Artoria is?"
"A naive girl chasing dreams?"
"It's laughable… Give her more trust. Believe she can handle this crisis."
"Don't forget, she's the king chosen by heaven to save this island!"
"!!!"
Agravain's eyes widened.
In an instant, the white light receded, replaced by warm sunlight and vibrant greenery.
Women's laughter filled his ears.
"Hey, is that one your son too?" Guinevere asked Morgan.
"He seems different from the others."
"But he's quite like you… Honestly, the rest don't feel much like your kids."
Guinevere steered the conversation to Agravain.
But he didn't notice.
He stared, almost dazed, at the man smiling at him from the stone table.
Unknowingly, his back was drenched in cold sweat.
Give her more trust.
Alaric's words echoed in his mind.
A truth he'd never grasped, one he might never have seen without Alaric's insight.
Having eyes that saw through reality wasn't remarkable.
What was remarkable was seeing the truth and finding a solution.
Not, like him, recklessly exposing it, ruining a potentially happy ending beyond repair.
The women chattered on, their focus shifting to Mash with a barrage of questions: "Where do you live?" "What do you think of us?" "What do you like?" The shy eggplant, unused to such attention, felt her mind overload.
"Alright, it's getting late. Time to prepare for the banquet." Guinevere said, ending the leisurely tea party.
But was it really late?
Mash glanced up, puzzled, at the sun. It was visibly sinking, yet still blazed brightly... barely four o'clock!
"Isn't it a bit early?" She asked.
"Or do banquets here start this soon?"
Mash fidgeted, worried about breaching local etiquette.
But then, her body floated lightly.
"E-e-eh?"
Panicking, she turned to see Guinevere behind her, lifting her in a hug.
"Early? Not at all!" Guinevere said.
"You're new. Just finding you a fitting dress will take time!"
"Oh, Your Highness Morgan, got any flower fairies to spare?"
"None. Scram." Morgan snapped, glaring.
But then she approached Mash, gently patting her shoulder.
A blessing from the Lady of the Lake, wishing the girl's soul to shine as clear and pure as a moonlit lake.
White Castle, Palace.
Around 6:30 p.m., as the sun dipped, the land settled into twilight.
The white marble walls glowed with soft light, illuminating the night.
"A city never shrouded in darkness"... the earth fairies who built it had labored hard for this vision.
It seemed worth it.
"They're here!" A knight called.
As an ornate carriage rolled up, the knights... both living and summoned from the Throne of Heroes... lined the palace sides, ready to greet the princess.
This task, they knew well, and executed flawlessly.
But when the elegantly dressed princess stepped down, smiling as she guided a shy girl from the carriage...
"!!!"
The premier knight acted shockingly.
Lancelot's eyes widened in disbelief, then he swiftly grabbed Tristan and Kay, who stood far off, covering their eyes with each hand.
"Sir Lancelot?" Artoria asked, turning, confused.
Kay was already arguing.
"Hey, what's that for? Aren't we brothers? You said we'd hit the tavern after the banquet!"
"Quiet! It's because we're brothers!" Lancelot growled.
As for Tristan, the melancholic knight had, unnoticed, drawn his harp, poised to play a romantic tune.
---
Every 200 power stones 1 bonus chapter will be uploaded faster.
And if you want to read 30 chapters early, you can visit: Patre on . com / KangTL (REMOVE SPACE)